Heart of a Shinobi
by Creator Emily
Summary: Enter Dareka, a girl who doesn't know she's important until a demon screws up her life and forces her to remember a life she unknowingly left behind. Lost friends, a broken family, and a smattering of romance. An underside of Naruto about the real demons and the people they hurt. About how one girl can change a plotline, soon to be two, and a T-rating to M because of her language.
1. The Light of Day

Heart of a Shinobi

Chapter I

_The Light of Day_

* * *

"_Hey, Mom," a blond girl in her teens gazed at pictures atop a mantelpiece. A fire crackled in the fireplace below it. _

_Sixth grade graduation. _

_13__th__ birthday party. _

_The Christmas she got her Xbox._

"_Hm?" her mother looked up from her withered, paperback copy of the Fellowship of the Rings, green eyes twinkling behind wire-rimmed glasses. She was seated on a dark green leather couch in front of the fire._

"_Do you have any pictures of me when I was younger?" the girl asked, emerald eyes fixed on the picture of her thirteenth birthday party nostalgically. _

_She looked back and was instantly cautious of the blank look on her mother's face. So blank and expressionless; it was as though she were looking at a middle-aged, shopping mall mannequin. _

"_Yes," her mother replied, as her face unfroze, "but they're in the attic. I'd have to dig for days to find any."_

_The chuckle that followed the mother's reply was oddly disconcerting, almost forced._

"_Okay."_

"_We meant to tell you sooner, hun," the girl's mother said, holding her hands in front of her, meant as a controlling motion for the hysterical teenager who was waving a document in her mother's face._

"_Oh you did, huh? I was ADOPTED, mom? You should have trusted me! This is unbelievable!"_

"_I know, hun, but it was just easier to… to act like you were our own daughter, and you are! You _are_ our daughter!"_

"_I just feel so betrayed!"_

"_I know you do, hun. But El-Drake," she quickly corrected. She was then interrupted by Drake._

"_What did you just almost call me, mom?" her voice was dangerously low._

"_N-nothing hun, just a little slip—."_

"_Bull shit! What did you almost call me, Marian?" it was the first time Drake had ever dared to speak her mother's first name. Marian looked furious for only a moment, and her expression quickly switched back to being worried._

"_Ella," Marian forced out, not meeting Drake's eyes._

"_Why?"_

"_I don't know!" Marian shouted. Drake shrank back; she'd never seen her mother so confused and angry._

"_It just feels like… that's your name, but I know—."_

_And Drake saw it again. The terrifyingly blank look on her mother's face. A glazed expression, like she's been slipped some sedatives._

"_Your name is Drake and that's that."_

* * *

"_Hun, calm down. You don't know what you're saying—." _

"_And I remember nothing about my life before fifth grade! What's that about?" Drake screamed, in the middle of a rant._

_Her mother bit her lip, which had started to tremble._

"_You… you… blocked the memories, hun. You… were abducted. We thought we'd lost you. You were dead when the EMT's found you in that p-pedophile's basement, but they managed to-to get your heart going again," her mother was crying, spluttering next, "You were different after that, but we- we didn't want to say anything, hun. If you didn't remember, we didn't want to force you to. It was so painful for you."_

_Drake didn't remember, but she was shocked all the same._

_When she looked back and in her mother's pained eyes, Drake saw empathy and guilt. Marian was truly sorry. She felt a pang of her own guilt ripple through her stomach._

"_Hold on- I think it's coming back. I remember 4__th__ grade, I think…" She put a hand to her temple, rubbing to stop the slight buzzing in her ear. A weird girl named Hoshi; no that wasn't right; that couldn't be right. Where did she remember the name Hoshi from?_

**No.**_ The thought had to be hers, but it didn't feel right. It was too soft, too silky, and much too dark._

**Hoshi doesn't exist.** _There it was again. But could she believe herself?_

**There is only here and now.** _Why was the voice weakening? It was a whisper now…_

**Nothing else, Dareka, nothing else.**

_Where was that green light coming from? It was almost like it was behind her eyes, but that couldn't be right. The light intensified._

_Drake suddenly bent double and held her head; she could feel the pulsing pain in her skull. It felt so familiar… for a weird reason she couldn't-_

* * *

"_Wait, what were we arguing about?" Drake straightened and looked at her mother in honest puzzlement. Why did her head hurt? And her vision was spotty, like she'd been looking at a fluorescent light bulb for too long._

"_I have no idea, hun; are you sure we were arguing?"_

"_I don't even know." Drake looked down at the mahogany dining table and saw a folded piece of card stock labeled "Drake Dhues Progress Report". She picked it up and unfolded it. She grinned sheepishly at Marian, saying apologetically,_

"_I think it might've been about my grades."_

_Marian put on a look of mock sternness._

"_Let's see them, then."_

* * *

"_How? How could he get out of jail?" Drake shouted at her father in panic. Robert turned his head slightly away and said in a pained voice,_

"_He made bail. And he never made it to jail; Grand jury found him "Not Guilty". I'm sorry, Drake," he apologized, hugging her tight._

"_Dad, is he going to come after me again?"_

"_That's what I've got my Glock for, Drake. I'm trained for it."_

"_You didn't answer my question."_

"… _I don't know. I really don't, but probably. You were his only failure."_

"_Well shit. Thanks for the truth, anyway."_

_Robert didn't say anything._

"_I remember it so clearly now. I don't know how, but I remember. That's the kind of thing I'd probably block out or something. He just seemed so… friendly," she shivered. _

"_I know. It's how they all are, unfortunately. I've seen it. I could tell you stories…" Robert trailed off as Drake chuckled hollowly._

"_You have. Many times. D.C. is a scary place sometimes."_

"_Every place is, Drake, every place is scary sometimes."_

* * *

"Catherine's coming over tomorrow," I called from the kitchen, setting the phone back on its base to charge.

"Okay," mom called back from upstairs. She was working almost all the time, now. She'd sit at her desk for hours on end with her steno pad and mechanical pencil and just work. Her dissertation was stubbornly refusing to write itself, so naturally, mom had to jump-start it.

"What time?" she added after a pause.

"Two. She's bringing DDR," I said with a grin. Cath was a natural spaz, so she was therefore a terrific dancer. It had a certain logic to it that made me smile every time I thought about it.

Mom didn't reply. She was working _really _hard then.

I sighed and absentmindedly rubbed my right hand. It still hurt from the wall at school; they were unusually hard. Especially when I punched one. Figured.

The pain (and possible fractured bone) was the only remnant I had…

_Alex… I have faith in you, sis. Wish you had that much faith in me…_

I shook my head and decided to take a walk outside, not far, just around the neighborhood. I slid the sliding glass door open and stepped out into the warm, summer air. I looked out into our house's backyard. A cherry tree dominated the left corner. It was blooming…

"Ah, the smell of pollen in the air," I said sarcastically, inhaling deeply through my nose and closing my eyes.

It was the last thing I'd ever say. Quite the ultimatum, huh?

The tree was the last thing I'd ever see; I can think of worse things.

The pollen was the last thing I'd ever smell. It's not the most pleasant thing to fill your nostrils with before you fall to the ground dead.

The warmth of the air was the last thing I'd ever feel. God it was beautiful…

The cheerful, chirping birds of summer were the last things my ears would ever hear.

And the blood was the last thing I'd ever taste.

I didn't hear the gunshot.

I didn't feel the pain.

My body was completely numb and frozen.

All that registered in my brain the instant before it winked out was a relieved thought that didn't even feel like my own, and yet it was so, so familiar:

_**At last.**_

* * *

And so began my "second" life.

* * *

Listen, in the life I remember, I've seen ranch dressing on pizza, dragons flying backwards in Skyrim, neon socks, and a girl so hyped up on caffeine she broke a door (compliments to Catherine), so I've pretty much seen it all. I remember a lot of my life on Earth.

My first and only dog, named for my favorite character on Star Trek: Dax.

My first, real friend, Alex Wu.

My first, real friend deciding she hated my personality and declaring our friendship over.

My first trip outside the country (Athens, Greece).

My dad's wallet falling in the Mediterranean in Greece (it was hilarious _after_ he got a new ID and credit card).

My first fantasy series, which made me laugh, cry, scream, and yell: Harry Potter.

My first school day, traumatizing I tell you. Kindergarten was terrifying.

My first airplane flight.

My first instrument, the one I didn't want to leave, violin.

My first crush (I'm getting over it).

My first crush calling me 'ugly' (I'd still like to punch him very hard).

My first family: Mom, Dad, and Dax (my dog). And Alex, Taylor, and Catherine, my trio of sisters in all but blood.

It sucks that all of that was a lie. A big, fat, ugly one with a disgusting body odor. It wasn't me, or my life, that I was living. It was someone else's, some chick named Ella Dhues. And she had it going on, believe me.

I'll digress a bit: I wish I hadn't died. I kind of wanted to see where "my" (Ella's) life would go after high school. I wanted to see Japan and Italy, learn how to read hieroglyphics, study physics in college, finally learn to play the piano, maybe write a book or two. That fucking pedo had different ideas, though. In a way, I should be thanking him, but fuck that; I want to stab him with a dull, rusty ballpoint pen over and over until his eyeballs bleed and he begs for mercy. Then I would get to deny his pleas with a grin and finish the job. I think that's what Ella would have wanted.

Because she did die that day the EMTs found her in the basement. Me? I was hitching a ride on her body and in her memories that still dwelled within her intelligent little twelve-year-old brain. It really was convenient that her death almost directly coincided with my little… _jaunt _to Earth. In fact, one could say a superior individual planned it all.

But that's not very likely, because I happen to know the "superior individual" responsible, and he might've known exactly what would happen, but he didn't plan it. He has some clairvoyance, but he likes to sit back and watch, play things by ear. Sorry, I'm making him sound almost respectable. He isn't. At all. Let me begin by saying that none of this was my fault: it was _his._

And from the moment that last breath left my lungs and spluttered out my bloody mouth and my heart stopped, I was stuck with him.

* * *

I don't recall exactly how I woke up, but I did, slowly and fuzzily. The first thing that went through my mind: my head hurt. The second thing that went through my mind: I was really craving a warm bowl of my mom's mashed potatoes (it may not make much sense to you, but my (Ella's) mom makes some damn good mashed potatoes). It was only until I fully opened my eyes that my head screamed: HOLY SHIT I'M DEAD!

Which wasn't even true, something that took me a few long moments to consider. It was dark, cold, clammy, stuffy, small, and cramped, but I was still alive and breathing. Barely. My heart sped up. I was going to die again; this time it was going to be asphyxiation.

The top of my "capsule" creaked open without giving me enough time to ponder what would happen to me in my _third_ reincarnation. I realized I was in a freaking _coffin_. Was I buried alive?

"She's ALIVE!" shrieked a shadow over me. It may have been euphoric, but I didn't really care. My eyes widened and I did what many other blue belt Martial Artists would have done in my position. I slammed the heel of my hand into the person's face. At least, I would have, had the person not caught my wrist in mid-thrust and held it in a "no-nonsense" firm grip.

"Yeah it's her. Kami… this is incredible!" The man (it sounded like a man) used the leverage he had on my wrist to pull me out of the coffin. It was a skillful move, I grudgingly accepted. And I was really weak. I could barely stand on my own.

I put out a leg to stop myself from falling and tore my wrist from the guy's hand. I almost felt… taller than I had a few minutes ago. But was it minutes? Days? Hours? …Years? I stared at my hands and swallowed at the unsightly cuts on my wrists.

"Get some Kunoichi! She's still weak!"

"Kunoichi? What, am I in Japan? If so, than hooray, one more thing crossed off on my bucket list, but still, this is weird," I managed to cough out. My throat felt raspy and… dare I say dusty? I was in chilly night air. I opened my eyes and looked up at the unbelievably starred sky. Light pollution wasn't common wherever I was. So, definitely not Japan.

"Where-?"

My headache spiked and I doubled over, clutching my head. I gasped for air through the pain and squinted my eyes shut. I heard a rustle, but I might've dreamed it for all I knew.

"We're here," I heard someone (a woman) say. She sounded commanding, blunt, unyielding, and vaguely familiar.

"Milady, you didn't have to come yours-"

"Yes I did!" she snapped at someone, and continued, this time to me, and softly, "Dareka, can you understand me?" Her voice echoed between my buzzing ears.

I nodded slightly, and whimpered in pain. I paid no mind to the fact that she had called me "Dareka" instead of my actual name. Weird.

Cool hands touched the crown of my head, and I saw a green light through my eyelids. The pain faded. I breathed a sigh of relief and exhaled a, "Thank you."

But she wasn't done. She placed her hands on my clavicle and did the same, even though the pain was barely a dull throb. She did my shoulders next, and then my arms and hands, my thighs, my knees, everything.

I felt her hands at my eyes, but instead of healing them, she opened them gently.

"Do you know who I am, Dareka?"

I nodded. Impossibly, I knew.

"Tsunade?"

The kunoichi smiled and nodded her blond head.

"But how? Where?" I looked down at my clothes. A pretty white gown, with some stray white roses stuck into the hems. _Funeral clothes. _I realized with a shiver. Goosebumps rose on my withered arms and legs. It looked like my body had already begun to decay; but that was impossible. I'd only been out for a few seconds…

"What the hell is going on?"

Tsunade motioned to a male nurse in white who brought over a stretcher. I paled at the thought of lying down on a moving cot.

"No?" Tsunade assumed from my expression, "Then you can walk. _Slowly_. You've been asleep for a very long time, Dareka."

* * *

The kunoichi worked on me for hours, healing every little flap of gray, brittle skin until they were all exhausted. They took it in shifts, to allow their chakra reserves to replenish. I assumed they used chakra, anyway; I wasn't sure if this Naruto-style afterlife was real or even accurate. But that didn't really seem to bother me at the time. I just stared bleary-eyed into the night sky, trying to find familiar constellations and making up names of stars when I didn't recognize any systems. My strength gradually returned, bit by miniscule bit, and I started to feel a different, added surge of power. It was a literal power, something I could actually sense pulsing through veins over my body. Was this what _ninja_ felt like?

I was chugging down a glass of hot green tea (you could tell it was my third; the stains on my frayed white gown were evidence enough) in the Hokage's office when Tsunade finally began to tell me what had happened.

"We thought you died thirteen years ago. Evidently, that's not what happened," she said simply. Her whole body flickered, and then she was at the door. She closed it with a quiet click.

"You never know," she murmured to me.

"Yeah. Those potted plants looked pretty shifty to me, too," I replied sarcastically. Tsunade gave me a strained smile.

"Plants have ratted us out before. In any case, you didn't just _die_. Your soul left your body, something we've only ever seen in experiments with cadavers."

"So how did this happen?" I'd taken rather nicely to this change of worlds; I'd waited for something like this all my life. Or maybe it hadn't really set in yet and I was in shock. But I didn't feel like I was _in_ shock, or even shocked in general. I just felt kind of numb and warm.

Tsunade's smile turned shrewd.

"Are you familiar with demons, Dareka?"

"Sort of; the Kyuubi is one, right?"

Tsunade snorted and sat back down behind her desk. She folded her hands.

"Hardly. The "Nine-Tailed Demon Fox" is only a tailed beast. It's a concentration of chakra, yet it's also a physical entity."

"I take it demons aren't?" I said. I felt sharper when I had my sugar fix.

"No, not necessarily. They're," Tsunade struggled for a second, "I suppose you could call them non-corporeal, they live outside of time. These Akuma are comparable to the souls of humans. This particular demon, though, loves meddling with mortals. Demons do naturally; it's in their blood (metaphorically speaking). Though this demon in particular likes to mess around with human souls, especially the souls of miscreants or criminals. He fancies himself a sort of vigilante. But, long story short, your dad pissed him off and he decided to take it out on you."

I held up a hand.

"Wait. I know how this goes. This demon decided to screw me over and send my soul somewhere else, and then my soul kicked out the girl's soul whose body I was in. So that girl's body is soulless, and I'm just coming back?" I paused to ponder how in the name of all things holy I managed to deduce that. I settled on "I'm freaking kickass smart".

"A succinct summary."

"I only have one question," I held up a forefinger to illustrate, "Where is the demon now?"

Tsunade shook her head. She didn't exactly answer my question, but I didn't push her. I'd seen Naruto too many times to ignorantly push Tsunade's buttons. I asked her something else out of curiosity.

"And my father who pissed off this demon would be…?"

She tossed me a hand mirror from her drawer.

"Answer that for yourself."

I examined the foreign face in the glassy surface.

"Holy shit. I look completely different," I muttered, half in fear, half in delight. My dirty blond hair had brightened almost to a yellowy shade, and my eyes weren't emerald anymore, they were sapphire blue.

I looked over at Tsunade.

"This isn't a joke, right? I'm not a weird transgender clone, or something?"

It's hard to look dignified rolling your eyes, but somehow Tsunade pulled it off.

"'Cuz I only remember Minato Namikaze having a son, not a daughter."

* * *

"Okay, let me get this straight: My dad, Minato, messed with a demon, and was evidently powerless to stop said demon from transporting me to another world and forcing me to live another life, and now, my stepparents and friends are back there, and I have no way to see them again. To boot, my dad screwed it up _again_ with my brother Naruto, who got a tailed beast sealed inside him as a baby. There's just a tiny little discrepancy with all this: I don't remember my life here, and neither do many other people. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT? Isn't that a little _too_ convenient?"

"First, ask yourself: do you _want_ to be screaming in my face?" Tsunade growled, hazel eyes narrowing into slits, "Second, shouldn't it make sense that beings outside of time should be able to affect time? It follows logically that memories are just as flimsy and bendable!"

"You're trying to bring logic to a world of magic, mysticism, and chakra?" I shouted incredulously. Forget about shouting in Tsunade's face; this was too much to absorb.

"It's not magic, it's science!"

"Maybe to you, but on _Earth_ we have Laws of Physics and Thermodynamics and Gravity, and I can't just readily accept this like you want me to. My memories tell me that I've spent my entire life on Earth, and now you've told me that I can't even trust those anymore! Do you know what that feels like? To know nearly your whole life has been a lie?" I waved my arms in exaggerated windmills. I think the initial "shock" of my situation must've worn off. I was feeling feverish.

"NO! I don't know because I'm not living your life. How can I know? It's completely unfair for you to attack me like that! I'm not here to empathize with you, I'm here to help you get your life back on track and make you realize that you can be extraordinary! Minato is counting on all of us to do that!" Tsunade shouted.

"And what's "us"? You and the ficus in the hallway? Who else knows? Does anyone, besides _maybe_ Jiraiya?"

"You know, you two really should stop yelling. The walls may be thick, but I'm particularly worried about this window."

I froze, mouth wide open. My mind took its sweet time in processing the melodious, deep voice coming from the windowsill.

_Oh my gods of Egypt, Greece and Rome. I guess that answers _that _question._

"Tsunade, were you really so distracted that you forgot to lock your windows?" the jonin said nonchalantly. He was still pointing to the window, as if to say, "It's still open."

"Just the one," Tsunade replied brusquely, "I knew you were coming, it's the one you always use. Now shut the damn—."

Kakashi Hatake gently slid the window shut and slid off the sill fluidly into a standing position, hands in his pockets.

Okay, explanation before reaction: I watched a lot of Naruto Shippuden on what we're now going to call "Earth" (as opposed to the _Naruto_ Earth I'm on now; it's sorta confusing). I'm sure people have favorite characters, and Kakashi was mine. It might've actually been my imprints of memories from my past, or maybe I just found him to be the character with the most substance. But I adored him. I _still_ adore him.

So I stood there, face slowly growing red, contemplating what to say, and what not to say, as he gently teased me with his lone pitch-black eye.

"Hi," I finally managed to breathe. Poetic, right? I don't know if the demon, wherever he was, was messing with me, but I could feel a slight memory trickling into my mind's eye. Kakashi used to be so cold and distant, I knew that from the show, but this was different. I'd actually known him. I might've been his first "friend"; more like acquaintance, actually.

"You… you must've been devastated," I said weakly, feeling unable to blink. My eyes began to water. I'd learned to read his expressions when we were kids, despite only seeing a quarter of his face, half, if I was lucky. His shoulders sagged a tiny bit, eyebrow turning up sadly. Maybe I was a freaking ninja to notice that, or maybe I just paid more attention to him than I did everything else.

"Yeah. I lived, regardless. I learned how to get over myself," he added with a bit of levity to his voice. I might've told him to do that a dozen times.

"Did you really? I find that hard to believe," I joked and grinned. It was still awkward and stiff after so long (short for Ella/me; I'd only watched episode 119 the other day), but we'd manage in time. He's still just _him_, apathetic and alone. And me, I'm still a teenager.

Right?

_Holy shit. Am I still a teenager?_ I tried not to panic. I inhaled deeply as my vision spun slightly and asked Tsunade tentatively,

"Tsunade, just a random out-of-the-blue question: about how old am I? I looked older in the mirror; didn't you say I died at thirteen?"

"We, that is to say the medical team, believe that the lack of a soul caused your body to age, despite the fact that cadavers only wrinkle and collect dust. I'd say twenty-five. You were twelve when the dem- Dareka? Are you alright?" Tsunade asked suddenly in concern. I'd sunk to my knees in despair and intense exhaustion, the room lurching like a crazed merry-go-round.

"Why does my life suck so much?" I managed to say weakly before I passed out.

* * *

I was sitting up in a hospital bed the next morning, curiously pondering how it was I got there, when Tsunade entered and sternly told the nurse on-duty in my room (24 hour watch to be safe) to take a lunch break.

"You guys have weird customs here," I joked, "On Earth, we have lunch around noon, and breakfast in the morning. It's what, nine-thirty?"

Tsunade paid me no mind and drew up a chair. She adopted a look of motherly concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked seriously. I gaped at her.

"Hm, let's think," I held out my hand and began ticking off fingers, "I've been shot by a pedophile, woken up by kunoichi in a coffin in a magical world of fantasy, been told that nearly all my memories of my past life are fake, my father is the fourth Hokage, my brother is Naruto Uzumaki, I was best friends with Kakashi Hatake, and this is all the work of a psychopathic demon who hates me and wants me dead. I'm fucking chipper!"

"I didn't ask for sarcasm. I wan—,"

"Yeah, well that's what you got! You've got me and all my sarcasm and my issues and I don't care if that isn't fair, because whatever this is like for you, it's a hundred times worse for me!" I snarled. My hands clenched into fists in the bed sheets. Tsunade opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something snappy, but shut it and simply walked slowly out of my room. Something akin to guilt bubbled in my stomach.

"Well done, Drakey. Now you've managed to alienate the closest thing to a mother figure you have in this dimension," I growled as I bashed my head backwards against the metal bedpost. I realized glumly that my tolerance for pain must've risen because the impact barely hurt.

So I lay there, pondering just how flat and white the ceiling was, until the door to my room opened again. The walking pattern was slightly different. I could tell it wasn't Tsunade or the nurse.

"So I'm guessing this isn't the greatest day of your life," Kakashi said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"Righto, Kashi. You are one psychic jonin," I replied, still staring fixedly at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" he asked. I couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested or if he was simply trying to instigate a conversation.

"Contemplating the blandness of ceiling panels."

"I'll leave you to it, then," he said nonchalantly. He walked back to the door and then paused.

"I'm glad you're back." I could tell he meant it. And that made me feel maybe a slight bit better.

* * *

**Hope you liked it; this is my third attempt at a working Naruto fic, and I think I've got it this time. You know what they say about 3****rd**** tries and luck…**

**Anywho, I'd just like to warn you that these updates aren't gonna be very regular. I've got school and neglecting homework to worry about, so you can expect these only about once every two or three weeks 'cuz they take work, damn it. If I don't get much feedback, I'll stop posting, so please review if you want more, and don't if you don't.**

**Seeya!**

**Em **


	2. Commonalities Born From Loneliness

Heart of Shinobi

Chapter 2

_The Commonalities Born from Loneliness _

**Thanks to you guys who reviewed; it's really a nice feeling to know this story is appreciated. This is a chapter that I had already written before I posted, so I tweaked it and decided to post it as a bonus. Thanks Again!**

**One Week Later**

"B-but you aren't cleared to leave! You still need to go through psychical therapy and-and-" the nurse (I think her name was Shinta or something) stammered worriedly. She fretted around while I pulled on the clothes Tsunade had left out for me, consisting of a black tank-top with matching black slacks, a Shurikan pouch (which I strapped to my right leg), a tan kunai pouch (buttoned over the waistband of my slacks), and my trusty green Chunin jacket. A memory of the exam came back a few days ago; turns out I was one of the last people out of the Forest of Death thanks to a giant fruit bat.

"Calm down, Shinta, I'll be fine. If there's one thing I know about my family, we're fidgety and determined to keep out of hospitals," I said cheerfully. I patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and made my escape through the window.

Jumping out the window of a room on the second floor would've resulted in some pretty serious injuries back home, and that was why I dared to do it now, because I landed softly on the ground with barely any effort.

"God I love it here," I sighed happily into the morning air. I put my hands in my pockets and set out into the village at a swift jog until the hospital was out of sight, at which point I dropped to a leisurely stroll. It might seem strange, but I felt like I'd come to terms with my situation over the past few days. That is to say, I cried myself to sleep the past few nights and resolved to not think about things that could send my spiraling into a state of depression.

Tsunade had tried to debrief me the day after I arrived, during which I had stubbornly refused to cooperate. She grew more irritable when I discussed how it was I actually knew everything about the Naruto world, and seemed frustrated that I hadn't actually remembered anything from my past life. With great effort, I refrained from discussing the Shippuden plotline. I felt like I was at an advantage, knowing what would happen, and I didn't want to give that up just yet. And I was also secretly worried that if I told them what I knew and it turned out to be wrong this time in the plotline… I didn't want to think about it. I knew that my being here changed everything; I'd seen countless episodes of Doctor Who and Star Trek.

What if things didn't happen the way they were supposed to, because of me? I tried to put that thought out of my head and resurface back into reality.

Since I'd arrived, and this was the first time I'd seen the village up close and personal. It was pretty varied. Book shops, coffee shops, restaurants, convenience stores, supply stores, _ninja_ supply stores, clothing stores… The more I looked, the more I saw, and the more I wanted to see. I stepped into a combined coffee-book shop and was immediately welcomed by the attendants there ("Welcome, Miss!" "Can we get you anything, Miss?" "It's very nice to meet you, Miss!"). It might have been creepy for anyone unfamiliar with Japanese culture, so naturally I found it to be very comforting and uplifting. Customers were always treated like royalty in Japan; it was just custom, a beautiful, friendly custom that I loved. It should be adopted in more places, judging from this sort of experience; politeness is a virtue. Granted it's one I usually ignore, but still a virtue.

I strode alongside the bookshelves, reading the Japanese titles of books with perfect accuracy.

"I'm a human Japanese-to-English dictionary," I muttered, tracing my finger along the bindings. I picked out one at random (a mystery novel, "The Missing Kunai") and opened to the first page.

"'The night was dark and lonely,'" I said with flawless understanding of the script, "I'm a Thesaurus too I guess. Damn. That is _awesome_."

I grinned and slid the book back in its place on the shelf. I was _so_ loving this.

"Ya know what I want to do?" I said rhetorically with a grin, "I want to see how chakra works."

I knew I wouldn't learn the fundamentals from a book, and I secretly didn't want to; I wanted to experiment on my own to find my own limits. So with a respectful goodbye and bow to the clerks of the shop, I dashed out to find the training grounds.

"That's the last time I take directions from Ebisu," I growled, "So much for a guy who's named after the Japanese god of luck." I'd wandered around Konoha for a while before I found Ebisu-Sensei, who gave me very vague instructions pertaining to finding the training grounds. He sent me off in the wrong direction- twice. The third time he huffed at me angrily and finally sent me off due east from our position until I hit Training Ground 3.

"Okay," I said as I stretched out my arms and cracked my knuckles. Time to see how hard chakra control really was. I was standing in front of the small forest that bordered the grounds, looking threateningly at the formidable oak tree right before me.

I reached into my kunai pack and pulled out one of those famed black daggers.

I took a deep breath and rushed the tree. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; funny how things do that in Naruto.

One step up the trunk. Powerful and strong.

Second step. Slightly weaker, but still in contact with the wood.

Third step.

Fourth step. I could feel my foot peeling off the bark. I gritted my teeth and pushed forward.

Fifth step. This was the one. With an exaggerated flail, I sliced my kunai into the tree and flipped off, sliding to a stop a few feet away.

"That's pretty high," I said with an appreciative shrug, "But I can do better. If I'm right, then I've got oodles of chakra just aching to be used."

I stood up and ran at the tree again. My brain processed faster this time.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. _Slice. _

"Higher, but still no chakra," I observed with more frustration.

Stepstepstepstepste- My foot slipped. I met the ground with a nice "Howdy-do" and a thud that, had I still been on Earth, would've dislocated my shoulder but here just hurt really bad.

"Fuck," I swore ill temperedly. I threw my kunai at the ground and just seethed in silence for a few moments.

Unwelcome thoughts began to creep into my mind; things I'd refused to think about I found swarming around in my head.

"Mom would've cheered me up," I muttered, "She would've pushed me to keep going."

The next thing I knew, I was in tears, and angrily pounding my kunai into that tree I now hated so much.

"Ninja never show emotion you weakling," I sobbed, "God I'm pathetic."

I wiped my eyes as another wave of tears poured from them, this time from imagining what my mom would've said to me if she'd heard me putting myself down like this.

I'd never see her again, would I?

It didn't make sense; why had it taken me this long for me to just realize that? I must be stupid.

"I'm so stupid!" I screamed, thrusting my kunai into the grass with all my strength for emphasis.

"You're coming to terms with your situation, idiot. That doesn't mean you're stupid," came the voice of the last person on Earth (this Earth, that is) that I wanted to see.

"Kashi, I _really_ want to be alone right now. And calling me an idiot—,"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Not the best way to pull you out of depression. But you did sneak out of Intensive Care, and you're not at your best. You need to wait for your strength to come back."

I looked up to glare at him. It probably wasn't very intimidating, what with my watery red eyes and pouty lips, but I didn't care. I hated being patronized. He held out his hand. I turned away from it and stood up shakily on my own.

"This sucks, actually. Back home, I would've given anything to be right where I am now. And now that I'm here, all I want is to be back home. Fucking ironic, isn't it?"

"Cruel ironies are a part of life, unfortunately."

He leaned against a tree, hands in his pockets, and didn't say anything else for a while. Then,

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Kashi, being a ninja isn't in my nature. I can't just kill-"

"I'm not asking you to, and neither is Tsunade. Nobody is for right now. Right now we're focusing on bringing down the Akatsuki. That sort of killing is what you'll be wanting to do, soon enough," he said bitterly.

"I don't want to just wait for that to happen. I want…" I deliberated for a moment, "I want something to hold onto here. Kashi, when is Naruto getting back?"

"Any day now, so I'm told."

"Well I can't just wait around. That's not what I do."

I pulled my kunai out of the tree.

"Besides, the Akatsuki are a pretty freaking big deal around here, right? I should be trying to get strong enough to go toe-to-toe with them."

"If that were possible to do in only a few days, don't you think we'd _all_ engage in that magical regimen?" He said sardonically, "You need rest for right now. I don't think the Akatsuki would have the guts to stage a full-scale attack on the village tomorrow. You can afford a period of relaxation."

I glared at him.

"Kashi, I'm an Uzumaki. Tell me what we Uzumaki's do best."

"I know of a few things. This one in particular…?"

"We redefine the line between "possible" and "impossible". We also hate being told to cool our jets."

"That was two."

"Whatever! Now, I'm gonna need help, so-."

"So naturally you're going to need an experienced fighter and educated teacher, as well as a safety practitioner," Kakashi sighed, "What do you want to start with?"

I grinned.

"The Rasengan of course!"

"Start with next-to-impossible first. Why did I not see this coming? Dareka," he stopped when I frowned at the use of my "real" name.

"Drake," I muttered. Kakashi made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a huff. I knew he was smirking.

"Drake, you need to learn the basics first. Chakra control and chakra release are both essential for mastering jutsu. And then when you get to the more complicated jutsu-."

"I gotta worry about change in chakra nature and change in chakra form. Yeah, I know the drill."

"So you do remember! All right then, those are the basics in chakra. It's used for genjutsu and ninjutsu, whereas taijutsu is just strength, speed and stamina. Your taijutsu was your poorest of the three back when we were kids, so I think we should work on that first. Rasengan will have to wait," he said. He was calm enough about it, but I could tell he was worried about me. That, more than anything else, mollified me.

"Okay then. Taijutsu first."

"We'll start in two days."

"Why?" I whined. I loved how he could look exasperated with only one eye.

"Because technically you're still being hospitalized for chakra and physical rehabilitation and I can't legally or morally or ethically-," he got cut off by my growling.

"Yeah, yeah I get it. You're going to have to babysit me until I fully recover, or get around Tsunade's orders, yadda yadda Yoda."

Despite myself, I smiled at him.

"Hey, I'm starving, you want some lunch?"

"Drake, it's ten in the morning."

"Is that a no?"

"Only if we get to call it brunch."

"Fine; you're going to have to treat me, 'cuz I'm pretty much flat broke. My last S-rank mission was almost two nevers ago."

He chuckled and happily obliged.

"Naruto would be scandalized," he said. We'd taken stools at Ichiraku Ramen and I was a bit apprehensive about my first bowl of ramen. I'm a bit of a picky eater.

"I can't help it; mom never bought ramen. I never got around to eating any. In fact, there are a lot of things I never got around to back home," I added sadly. He picked up on my tone like the psychic he is and switched to "counselor" mode at the speed of light.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I was going to anyway, sooner or later. You're almost too easy to talk to, you know," I complimented him dryly. He smirked, I think.

"I had a friend back over there. Her name was Alex; she was easily the most charismatic, spontaneous, hilarious girl I'd ever met and probably ever will meet. She's whip-smart, too. She knew Ella before my soul got there, and to her, Ella and I were completely different people. I changed in her eyes. I wasn't the quiet little clever one who lived in her shadow anymore, I was stronger but sadder. I had some serious depression issues for a while and it always felt like a bit more than being abducted. I wanted out all the time; I needed to escape somewhere else and I couldn't. I felt trapped.

"Alex noticed. In my little peaks of optimism and excitement, she saw me trying too hard to be somebody else; I think she saw me trying to be her. Maybe she was threatened by it, maybe she was trying to do me a favor, I don't know. But she eventually brought it straight to my face and said "I don't want to be friends with someone like you." I felt like she killed me, stabbed me right in the back. I don't think I ever really recovered."

Teuchi brought me my ramen in the tangible silence that followed.

"She sounds like a real bitch," he said helpfully. I chuckled a tad.

"Maybe towards the end, yeah. She was convinced I was faking my depression before I told her about my abduction; thought I just wanted the pity. Really showed her didn't I?" I said in a hollow voice, "I mean, I had other friends; Taylor sided with Alex like a copycat bitch and told me everything I said was a load of shit. Mark was completely cool with the whole thing and respected our problems; he hung out with everyone like there wasn't a problem. Cath did her best to stay neutral but ended up hanging around me more. I miss her. Hell, I miss all of them. They were the greatest when we were all together, camping out in Cath's huge basement. But all good things must end, right?"

I felt a hand on my head and Kashi mussed up my hair. He hadn't spoken a word during my lament. I realized he'd been finishing up his ramen.

"Were you eating the whole time?" I asked with mock hurt in my tone.

"Believe me, I was listening," he said, "And not all good things have to end, Re-Re."

My stomach did a pirouette when he called me by that pet name; it was a gesture that brought back a few memories. A tickling in my cheeks reminded me his hand was still on my head; Kashi seemed to remember at the same instant and withdrew it. I cleared my throat and dug into my ramen to cover up some awkwardness, but the fact that he cared made it taste like the best ramen in the universe.

The next few days passed agonizingly slowly, what with Tsunade forcing me back to my room and putting me under to run endless blood and chakra tests. I hated it. Thank the gods Kashi could visit; I wouldn't have been able to stave off the boredom long enough without punching the nurses.

After an arduous six days (Kashi apologized for getting my hopes up for an early release), I was released and practically sprinted out the doors to the training grounds.

His body flickered. A sudden movement of air tickled my right ear, and instinctively I rose my arm, not to scratch it, but to block a blow. And block a blow I did; I felt the impact of colliding with Kakashi's arm through my entire body.

"Good reflexes."

My eyes caught a flicker of motion as he retracted his arm and went for a sweeping kick to knock out my legs. I jumped several feet in the air (I didn't have time to be shocked silly, unfortunately) and somersaulted, using that momentum to launch a downward kick on his head. He cross-blocked my leg and shoved me off to his left.

I spun horizontally and cushioned my fall with alternating slaps to the ground with each hand. I finally straightened up, not dizzy in the least, and put up my guard.

I remembered sparring from Martial Arts. Right hand up to protect my ear. Left hand halfway out for jabbing. Elbows against my body. Standing sideways, not squared up.

"That's very good for a first start!" Kakashi praised from a few yards away. He assumed a similar but more flowing fighting stance.

The next few moments were a blur of confusing blocks, punches, blocks, kicks and ducks. At least, they were confusing in retrospect. At the time, my mind was completely clear, my limbs were moving on instinct alone. It was exactly like my martial arts instructor always said: If you practice something enough times, you won't have to think about doing that move. It'll be written down in your muscle memory.

The only discrepancy I noticed was I didn't recall ever learning or practicing any of these complicated moves.

As soon as I came to this realization, it was enough to distract me for what felt like half a millisecond, an ample window of time for a ninja of Kakashi's caliber.

With a disorienting lurch I was thrown to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

"You okay?"

I coughed.

"That's not very ninja-like, asking if your opponent is okay," I said as I pushed myself back onto my feet, "I must be rusty, letting you throw me like that."

The ground spun under my feet and I held out my arms.

"Damn." I held my head.

This time the dizziness wasn't stopping; it kept going and going and going…

And my sight went black.

When I woke up, the world had gone white. Pure white. Like white to the ultimate extreme.

I squinted and stood up. I didn't feel dizzy anymore. That was a plus.

"'Da fuck," I said, looking around wildly, "Where the hell am I now?"

"Your own head of course," a voice said matter-of-factly behind me.

I turned around and faced a figure that had certainly not been there the second before.

It was a complete silhouette, like a solid shadow. Featureless, like the "room" I was in now. Except for the eyes. The eyes were searing, emerald green.

"And you are…?"

"Oh please. I hardly need an introduction," he/it paused, "But I'll give you one regardless, since you seem rather confused."

He drew himself up importantly (I think) and stated,

"I am Sin."

"You seem a bit shocked."

"I didn't expect the asshole responsible for all the shit in my life to suddenly put himself right in my line of fire. Thanks for that, now I don't have to waste an arc-and-a-half trying to track you down."

"How fortunate for you, then, that you can enter this place whenever you wish, and I cannot leave," he replied. His tone implied that he was barely holding back laughter.

"Why do you sound like that? You're mocking me, asswipe," I said in my most amicable tone.

"Oh not at all, on the contrary, I brought you here as an extended hand of friendship. All that nasty business with Ella is water under the bridge."

"I suppose she told you that herself, did she?" I snorted. This was unbelievable; the jerk was swimming around in my head the entire time when I thought he was jerking off in some higher dimension.

"As a matter of fact she told me to 'fuck off' and tried to strangle me; I think she might've been confused as to which part of me was most vital to my survival. She also wasn't exactly solid at the time either."

"Mind sharing your venerability? I'd like to honor her name in the best way I know how," I spat. My heart swelled at the thought of a spirit-Ella attacking this piece of work. We could've been good friends.

"I don't think so, Re-Re," he hissed. After a furious, blushing, embarrassed second I realized he was laughing.

"I'm leaving, shitface. I'm not here to listen to you gloat."

"Just put up with me for a minute longer, I implore you. I'd like you to know that I saved your life all those years ago. I didn't force you into Ella's body out of a perverse sense of vengeance, I saved your soul from passing." The green eyes narrowed.

"That's not the way I hear it; you wanted to screw my dad over for something he'd done to you. What was so terrible that you had to ruin so many people's lives? Ella, her family, her friends, _my_ family, _my_ friends? ME?" I shouted. I turned my back to him.

"Ask your precious Kashi if what I said was true," he said, dodging my demand, "Goodbye."

"I hope I never see your stupid fucking face again!"

I woke with a start on a very fluffy cloud.

As my surroundings came into focus, I realized I was back in my hated hospital room. Alone. Embarrassingly, I yelled for Kashi before the nurse.

Regardless, both answered my summons.

"Shinta, I'm sorry but I need to talk to him about something; no, I'll be fine. Take the blood samples later! Your army of vampires can wait, this can't!"

Admittedly I was high-strung and clearly had my priorities skewed a bit, but this was dire- for me.

Shinta retreated looking hurt and shut the door.

"Kashi, I met him. I met Sin. And he told me something."

He was shocked, I could tell. But his expression was also guarded, cautious.

"What did he say?"

"He said that he saved me dying. Is that true? He said you could tell me."

He broke eye contact and looked at the floor in something that looked like shame.

"Drake, do you remember a girl named Hoshi?" he asked quietly. The name sent a sharp pain between my ears and dislodged a snippet of a memory.

"She was on my squad. We graduated together, I remember," I said slowly.

"Do you remember a boyfriend of hers? The third member of your squad?"

"Kashi, cut to the chase. How did I almost die and what does this have to do with Hoshi?" I asked with undue harshness. He took a deep breath.

"The third member of your squad was Itachi Uchiha. He killed Hoshi Hazami, your closest friend, during the Great Uchiha Massacre, and when you heard the news you slashed your wrists in despair. You were dead when the Kunoichi arrived."

A stony pause followed his words. I refused to accept his words, yet I remembered the cuts on my wrists after I stepped out of my coffin.

"Well, I'm a different person now."

"I hope so. I really do," Kashi replied in a broken voice. He was still choked up about it, the sweetie.

"But why would Sin save me? And why would he wipe so many people's minds? He doesn't strike me as the kind of person to spare people pain," I said. I leaned my head in my hands to think.

"He didn't clear my memory," Kashi said, "Or your father's. We were the only ones "spared"; even Kushina-." He stopped and swallowed.

"My mother?" I gasped, "Why the hell would he do that to you and dad? What did you do?"

"Nothing," he said defensively, "We'd never do any of this intentionally! Minato is the only one who might've known, and the secret died with him."

"This is all so screwed up," I said as I pounded my forehead, "I'm suicidal, dad's so fucking righteous it makes me nauseous, mom died never knowing me, you're emotionally scarred for life a dozen times over, and my best friend is rotting in an Uchiha mass grave. I'm getting the "all good things" feeling again."

"Jeez, sis, it isn't all bad. Look how _I_ turned out."

I raised my head, eyes wide as mixing bowls, to the grinning blond idiot who'd just casually walked in my room like it was nothing.

"No grandiose entrance? I'm shocked silly," I said, a bit breathlessly.

"What's grandiose?" the biggest moron in history said as he scratched his spiky blond head. I replied with four words I'd always wanted to say to him:

"You're a dumbass, Naruto."

**I guess Drake's dream of a tearful, happy reunion was squashed. So sorry, hun. So, in a few weeks I'll have Chapter 3 up: Echoes, where we'll learn more about Re-Re's old squad and her family. In case it wasn't really clear, Minato and Kashi ended up telling the important people about Drake. Sin's shenanigans sort of screwed shit up (alliteration ftw), and everyone's scrambling around to pick up the pieces of their lives.**

**Including her Earth friends. Hint hint.**


	3. Echoes--A Good Person

Heart of Shinobi

Chapter 3

_Echoes/A Good Person  
_

**Okay, everybody, apologies all around for this being so late, but I've been really busy with some original stories. That being said, I'll shut up after one small note.**

**This is sort of, kind of, almost based on a true story (but not really), and I don't want people to get hurt, so I'll just put up a giant disclaimer: NARUTO IS NOT MINE. THESE CHARACTERS ARE MINE, AND THEY ARE **_**FICTIONAL**_**. PLEASE BELIEVE ME, PEEPS. There are some inspirations from events and peeps I've known, but for the most part, these are characters from my brain (the gray noodly thing that_ isn't_ located in your butt). Besides, they're all gonna end up being different anyway, so the point is kinda moot.**

* * *

"You know what I wanted to do to welcome you back home?" I asked my idiot brother as we sat together in my room. Kashi'd had the tact to leave us alone after Naruto gave him Makeout Tactics (though he _had_ been pretty distracted, so it might _not_ have been a conscious gesture of understanding).

"What?" he asked. The grin he'd slapped on his face hadn't faded since he'd walked in the room.

"I wanted to walk right up to you and casually say, "Hi. Recognize me, little bro?" and wait for a huge group hug. I guess things don't always work out. Who told you?" I asked, trying my best to keep the disappointment out of my voice. He read me well for an idiot, because his goofy grin finally swept away.

"Granny; it took me over an hour to stop shouting. I wish you had come back sooner," he said with the kind of honesty only he, the almighty Lord of naivety, could achieve.

I shrugged.

"It wouldn't have made much difference, but I get it," I said, "And this whole situation is awkward to the max; how the hell do we deal with this?"

I was asking honestly, cheeks red and puffy from crying. Naruto just shrugged back at me as a sort of acknowledgment of this daunting task; picking up the pieces never looked so hard and painful.

"I got no clue. I hoped you were better than me at this," he said with a nervous smile.

"Hey, I'm just fine; this just isn't the expected outcome of a run-in with a screwed up demon. Also family relations aren't my forte," I added, reminded of the shouting matches with my faux-mom. Naruto made sad eyes at me.

"I've never had a real family, so I probably suck at this too."

I sighed. Orphaned, of course, how could I have forgotten? This wasn't just about me, and it never was. Hoshi, Kashi, Mom, Dad, and now Naruto. I was slowly starting to get the whole ugly picture of all the people Sin ruined. The scars on my wrists tickled.

"Ramen?" I asked hopefully, looking straight into my new brother's eyes. His grin came back with a vengeance.

"Always!"

* * *

I told him my "fake" life story in between slurps of noodles, trying to shove down the feelings of abandonment in my stomach. Teuchi had heard part of my story before, but his reactions to the other parts were… unsettling. He would gasp and sniffle and chuckle like someone who really cared. The old guy was growing on me. Naruto looked mostly surly and sour; I don't think he liked the way Sin had screwed up our family. Neither did I. Further proof we really were related.

"So do you remember them?" he asked quietly after I finished. Who? My friends?

"Mom and Dad. Can you tell me anything about them?" His voice had dropped and gotten throatier. He hadn't heard. Tsunade didn't tell him. If she hadn't, then she probably didn't want him to know. Knowing about Dad would give him closure, yet I still felt it'd put him in danger. Not that he wasn't in plenty of danger already, but we had enough on our hands with just the Akatsuki.

"I don't remember Dad," I lied evenly as my insides squirmed in protest, "But I can tell you about mom; Kushina Uzumaki was her name. You've got her face and her name. She was fiery, loud, powerful and really lonely. She was an outcast, like us, and she had to work her way though some hard times. She wanted to be Hokage."

Naruto teared up. My throat felt swollen, but I pushed on.

"She beat up everyone who made fun of her red hair; they called her a tomato and a jalapeño; or a habanero. One of those." He laughed at that. My lips twitched.

"She would sing lullabies when you were still in her belly. She said it would calm you; she wanted you to grow up with those songs, sing them to you every night before you went to bed." I swallowed hard. Those nights in the hospital had given me some time to think and remember. I'd cried a lot. I was probably crying now, but my cheeks were too numb to feel anything.

"She loved us more than anything in the world. She would've died for us a million times over, offered herself, sacrificed everything. All for us. She had faith in us, faith that we'd always stay together and protect each other. She wanted her family to stick together and stand up for the right things. She was…" I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. Teuchi offered me a napkin.

"She was beautiful and kind and fearless. A ninja like no other; a mom like no other. A good person." Finally, I couldn't hold it in, and I didn't care. I took the napkin, stuffed my face in it, and cried my eyes out.

* * *

The funeral was tomorrow. That simple truth had bounced around in Alex's head from the moment she had woken up; maybe even before that. Her dreams had been foggy and depressing, as they usually were when Drake was involved.

What had she done to deserve this? She had just wanted a clean break. No drama, no flowers, no headstones, no dead ex-friends. And no eulogy. Oh God, the eulogy. She had to do a eulogy.

Mrs. Dhues was a wreck. Alex had shown up in court and watched her try to testify against the stalker/creep/pedo that had blown Drake's brains out. Marian couldn't say anything without crying anymore.

Alex had expected to see a monster, a mutant, a freak of nature sitting at the defending table. The guy said a demon had made him do it; a little dragonish demon called "Sin". Bit of a religious fanatic, to say the least. He was all types of salted and roasted nuts; peanuts, walnuts, pistachio, macadamia, et cetera.

She didn't expect to see the man who'd killed her friend.

Ex-friend, she reminded herself vehemently. But it seemed like a pointless detail, now.

She hadn't expected any tears, or regrets. Or nights with her friends, where they'd just cry and scream pointlessly at the sky. She certainly hadn't expected to be one of the people doing that.

"Maybe I should get a skull. Then I could do Hamlet," she muttered. She hadn't read Hamlet. She rubbed her eyes and pulled on some clothes. She looked herself over in the mirror. _Drab, depressed Asian girl. Come and get it, boys!_

"Fuck my life," she said as her bottom lip started to waver, and the emptiness in her stomach returned.

* * *

School was no great change. There were bulletins and notifications of Drake's death; student deaths were rare, so it was always an event.

And yet, everything felt the same as Alex walked through the doors.

She hated it. The painful monotony was slowly suffocating her, but the price to break that sameness was too dear.

She couldn't find any comfort at home because her parents never understood her. School had always been where her friends were, her real family; the only family she ever needed. Taylor's wicked grin, Mark's cheerful, spiky black hair, Cath's twinkling hazel eyes. And now, even the school itself seemed cold and hostile. Cath had skipped the last few days for therapy, and Mark didn't talk much anymore. You could even tell which teachers Drake had had by their permanent, glazed frowns and slumped posture. Drake hadn't been a slouch when it came to winning over the teachers. Always worked hard. Assumed high IQ. Always said the right things. Yadda yadda Yoda. Nothing Alex hadn't heard before.

First period would start in twenty minutes. She joined Mark and Taylor by the lockers and sat down, putting on a brave attempt at a smile. It faded when she realized what Mark was looking at.

His old yearbooks.

_Shit cakes. _

She'd done the same, for old time's sake, every night for the past week. Taylor was leaning her cheek into her hand, looking like a lost puppy. Alex couldn't tell if she was bored, tired, sad or all three. Their eyes locked and looked over at Mark in unison.

"Shut up you two," he said wearily. His spiky hair seemed to droop.

"We didn't say anything," Taylor snapped, brown hair swishing around angrily.

"I know what you were thinking. You didn't _have_ to say anything."

"Mark, I'm not trying to-."

"Trying to what?"

"… Look, she's gone and there's nothing you can do about it, okay? No use beating yourself up over it."

Mark looked shocked. Alex looked at Taylor.

"Did that _sound_ sensitive in your head?" she asked. Taylor looked away and muttered something. Alex had to try hard not to add, "Then why didn't it _stay_ in your head?"

"I'm going to the library. It should be open by now," Mark said in a detached, dead voice. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and strode off. Alex set her jaw and walked after him.

"Mark, I don't know what you're going through, but you shouldn't feel guilty," she said. Then she almost slapped herself. What the hell made her say that? She'd just thrown him a grenade without pulling the pin, and now he'd lob it back at her.

"I _don't_ think you know. You've made it very clear she wasn't your friend, and I've made it very clear she was mine, which is exactly why I feel guilty," he said sadly, looking at her with a face that wasn't angry in the least. It just made her feel worse. He continued.

"I get that you don't want to feel sad about her being gone. I don't either. But we do, and admitting that is the first step to recovering, right? I know you miss her, and you're just denying it because it's easier."

"Mark, you get A's in Psychology and English, but I don't think we're speaking the same language. I don't miss _her_, I miss the person she used to be, and she died a long time ago," Alex said. It was harsh, but it felt true.

"You mean when she was abducted by that guy who _killed_ her last week? What the hell do you know about what she went through?"

"Nothing, because she never told me!"

"Because you didn't ask, Alex."

"What difference does that make? She could've told me anything!"

"It makes _all_ the difference! She didn't feel comfortable placing the burden of her pain on anyone else unless they asked her to. She never felt comfortable telling you her own opinions because she was terrified you'd hate her for it."

It was Mark's assertiveness and tone that truly got through to her and made her hear his words. But then Alex noticed something. She stepped right in his face and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Your eyes are brown, Mark."

"Yeah, so?"

"So why are they glowing green right now?"

"You're worrying about my eye color when your best friend is fucking dead? You're unbelievable!" he yelled. Alex jumped back.

"Mark, you never yell. You never curse, and your eyes have never been green," she waved her hand nervously in front of his face, "Does anyone in your family have glaucoma?"

Mark slapped her hand away.

He might as well have slapped her in the face.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Glaucoma. It's a condition that can change eye color; it can cause nausea and extreme pain. It's hereditary. My dad treats patients with-."

"I don't care!" He shouted, "And _you_ never cared about Ella!"

Alex withdrew as Mark stomped off._ Who the hell is Ella?_ And those eyes… those green eyes… they reminded her of that nutcase who was now facing murder and abduction charges. When Alex had seen the man take the stand to give his plea for the victim's…_Drake's_ murder, she'd stared into those eyes. Those eyes, which had glowed _green_, while he pleaded "Insanity".

* * *

"You need to talk about this."

"No shit, Kashi," I snapped. I regretted it instantly, and it must've shown in my face, because he nodded forgivingly.

"Listen, my parents are gone, and there's nothing I can do about that. What I _can_ do is train my ass off until I'm worthy of a spot on your team," I said, "Regardless of the fact that I actually _have_ the spot." Tsunade had thought it "fitting" for me to have a place on Team 7, but really, I think she just felt sorry for me. She wanted me to be around friends and family for around-the-clock support; no better therapy than that, since I'd refused grief counseling.

"Then show me some clones, a perfect score on Shurikan and kunai throwing, _and_ a decent substitution jutsu, and I'll teach you the Rasengan," he said encouragingly. I noticed he didn't even mention my parents.

"I'm two for three," I said with a smirk, "I'm just not good with logs. I think the trees know how much paper I wasted back on Earth; they're out to get me." He raised his eyebrows.

"So it was the_ tree's_ fault that you knocked yourself out? That makes sense," he said sarcastically. I laughed. God I loved this guy…

Not literally. Just friend-ish.

No luvy-duvy love on this side on the fence, absolutely not.

His eye crinkled in response.

Okay. Maybe a little. Just a tiny bit. Nothing I couldn't handle.

"I'm going to throw a kunai at you. When it hits you, there'd better be a poof of smoke to reveal a log, okay?"

"Where am I supposed to find a log on such short notice?" I was only half-joking.

"Ready?" He ignored my question.

"Not in the least."

"Good. Then it's more realistic."

* * *

Two hours and a third of my chakra later, I still hadn't gotten it, and I was getting really moody. I'd lost count after a hundred tries. One _fucking _hundred.

"One more," Kashi said, not the least bit tired.

"Easy for you to say!" After all, he'd just been throwing knives; hell, _I_ could do that all day.

His hand reached back, and snapped forward to throw a kunai. I had no time to think. I slipped in to dodge it, but when I slipped back there was another one heading for my face. I slapped my hands together in the "Tora" sign, squeezed my eyes shut, prayed a little, blindly activated my chakra and jumped in the direction of the forest. No different from the previous hundred tries.

And yet, when I opened my eyes, I was in a tree, looking at a log in the clearing smoke, a kunai embedded dead center in its bark. I grinned. I'd nailed it.

"Rasengan time?"

Kashi's eye crinkled again. I could tell I'd made him proud.

"We'll start tomorrow with Naruto. You'll need all the help you can get."

* * *

It was my first night in my own apartment. Ever. Tsunade had taken up some of the slack with rent, food, et cetera. I could tell she felt responsible for me, and in her own way, she viewed me as her daughter, put under her care by Minat-Dad.

It was pristine enough, with a simple setup: bathroom on the left of the doorway, kitchen to the right, bedroom ahead. As soon as I walked in though, the odor hit me like a wall. Everything was new and sanitized; the whole place smelled of disinfectant and lavender hand soap. The kitchen had its own little island, granite countertops, decently stocked pantry, and a freaking_ microwave_ (the technology inconsistencies made as little sense on Earth as they did here). A single queen-size bed paired with a nightstand populated the bedroom. Bathroom was normal with all the necessary girly things in the cupboards.

The place was clean, but it wasn't friendly or familiar yet; it was more like a hotel room than a real home. Sleeping here would be weird at first.

I missed my old twin bed, the mess of clothes on the carpet, and the posters I'd drawn and hung up on the wall. I'd just have to draw new ones, I guess.

I shook my head when I felt the tears coming back. No more crying.

I grabbed a gray hoodie from the closet (pressed and cleaned) and took a dive out the window.

I landed on the ground like a leopard and stuffed my hands in my pockets. A short walk later and I was at the riverside of Training Ground 3, legs hanging over the side. My blond hair lifted in the warm breeze.

Cloudless night. The moon was a waxing crescent. Or a waning crescent. I never could tell the difference. The stars were out and shining like faraway diamonds on a sheet of navy blue velvet. They were peaceful and beautiful. And lonely.

I'd have to deal with my depression on my own this time around. Mom wasn't here to comfort me, and neither was Cath or Mark, or dad. Alex and Taylor weren't here though, which was a plus.

I could deal. I had to, or it'd cost me my life, or Naruto's or Sakura's. Or Kakashi's.

Maybe I did like him, but I'd have to deal with that too. On my own.

Maybe I was being stupid, thinking I had to be alone; bonds with other people made me strong.

Maybe I was being selfish.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Jesus Christ, Kashi!" I jumped in surprise, but in my head, I was saying, "About damn time you showed up! Haven't you been hearing my telepathic summons?"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. Sit down."

He sat.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"It's too weird in there. I just need to break it in," I admitted.

"Do you know their names?" he asked, looking up at the sky with me. Constellations. Drawing a blank.

"No; do you?"

He did a sort of huffing chuckle, the kind people do when they smirk.

"Every single one."

"Nerd."

"We make the world."

"If only we did. It would make a much nicer world, wouldn't it?" I mused.

"… Yes. Yes it would. People wouldn't be so focused on power."

"Knowledge would be the real wealth."

There was a heavy pause.

"There," he said, pointing, "That one's the Lotus. And next to it is the Mourning Kunoichi."

"That squiggle with the crown?"

"The Drifting Feather under the Diamond Circlet."

"Squishy Blob?"

"Bleeding Heart."

Awkward moment.

"You should've been an astronomer."

"You should've been one too; 'Squishy Blob'? Old navigators could've used that to set their courses at sea."

We chuckled. I mimed a telescope at the Blob and did my best pirate impression.

"Uh, sir, we seem to be veering off course. Shall I set the Blob on our starboard side?"

Kashi joined in with a mime pair of binoculars.

"No, no, we'll continue on; we should be fine, so long as we follow the Seagull Poo."

"Do you mean the actual poo or the constellation, sir?" I giggled. We laughed it out for a while after that, tossing jokes back and forth. It felt really good to just laugh, especially after everything that'd happened. I felt like a weight was being lifted off my chest.

"Damn, it's good to have you back," Kashi said cheerfully, mussing up my hair. I got the same swooping sensation I got that one time I went down the Griffin at Busch Gardens (Get outside and go to a theme park if you don't know what the Griffin is). It felt like my heart was beating in my throat, and my stomach had been loaded with dizzy butterflies. The weight on my chest was back.

Impulsively, I reached up and hugged him round the neck.

"It's good to _be_ back," I whispered. It was a pleasant surprise when he hugged me back. Needless to say, after we'd said our goodnights and gone home, I slept pretty damn well.

* * *

Try to imagine a person who means something to you. Picture them in your head so clearly it's like they're standing in front of you. Now picture them asleep, lying down in their bed, a peaceful smile on their face, and dressed in their best clothes, not the least bit ruffled from sleeping in them. Their hair is done up, hands clasped over their chest, but their skin is clammy, and they look sick. Something's wrong with them; you want to shake them awake, but when you reach out to touch them, they're cold and unresponsive. They'll never hear you, or see you, or talk to you again. Apologies and regrets and eulogies are ignored alike. It's like there are two universes in front of you; the real one, where the person is cold and dead, and the other one in your head, where the person is so alive, smiling and laughing in your memories.

This was how Alex felt, as she stood speechless over Drake's coffin. What words could describe this? "Okay, Drake, I'm calling your bluff!" An entire lifetime had blinked out of existence, and it was up to her to summarize that life without leaving out anything important. Except _everything_ in that life was important. She wasn't the only one making a speech, but it was how she felt.

In the end, what else really mattered?

"Ladies and gentlemen," an old man, probably her grandfather, said quietly into the microphone, "Alex Wu will now say a few things about Drake Dhues." The small, warm room was quiet, with only Mrs. Dhues' sobs to disturb the peace. If you could call it peace. Drake's aunts and uncles, cousins, parents, grandparents, friends, teachers, even her dog, were all in the crowd, waiting for Alex to speak. The pressure was on, crushing the oxygen out of her lungs. There was a huge weight on her chest, like a Boa Constrictor winding around her rib cage, aiming a strike at her heart.

Alex cleared her throat with difficulty.

"Drake was a…" she paused and looked down at her notes. Then she sighed and stepped back from the podium, "Drake was a good person." The words stuck in her throat like marbles.

"When I first met her, she was a little, shy girl who just knew how to work hard; she didn't know much about making friends. She was pure and honest. Untouched.

"But then an evil guy, a real nutcase, he took her and she just… wilted. She paid the price for his perverted brain. I never watch or read the news, so I had no idea, except for those rumors you hear every so often. "He's got a retarded brother." "That guy's dad drinks." "She smokes." "She got raped." "Those two are doing it." I've always been able to ignore them pretty well. But Drake…she didn't know what to do, and maybe I should've helped more, led her down a better path. I think she imitated me because she couldn't handle her pain, and the things other people were saying behind her back, and I didn't see that right away. I just thought she wanted the attention," Alex swallowed, "And I didn't want to deal with that anymore. I said some things I shouldn't have, and apologizing now won't fix anything. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'm sorry I never said it to you, Drake. You were a good person, and you didn't deserve this. So, fuck the asshole that did this to you. He's going straight to hell if I have anything to say about it."

The more conservative members of the crowd gasped at her language, but she didn't care. Nothing goes unforgiven at a funeral anyway.

It was impossible to say any more. She floated back to her seat in a blurry, surreal haze. Mark handed her a pack of tissues. The look in his watery eyes was enough of an apology for yesterday. Alex didn't even remember if he'd said, "I'm sorry." Nothing about her brain was working right.

Then she realized, through her numbness, that _she_ was crying too. Why the fuck was she crying?

"Fuck my life."

* * *

The girl woke up. _Dark. Cold. Wet. Hard ground. Cramped. _

The girl had no name. No allegiance. No family. She was only "Girl". Empty. Void. Without meaning or will.

_Cave?_

Her hands slowly swept the dirty floor. She found the confines of the space; it was no bigger than a closet. She didn't remember what a "closet" was; only that it was small.

_Cave. _She thought as she felt the walls. The _chink_ sound of metal on metal made her muscles freeze in fright. Her foot twitched. _Chink._

_Chain. _She thought. She sighed in relief. The chain brought her comfort.

_Safe._ She thought with a smile. _Safe cave with chained foot. He will come soon. Bring food. Bring food for his star. Nice man with swirly eyes bring food for his star. _

Her hand trailed over a cool, flat surface; the entrance to the cave.

_Metal. Door! He will bring food here! His star will wait._

She waited, smiling, until the man with his swirling, red eyes and pitch-black hair opened the door to the cave and brought her a bowl of hot rice.

"Thank you, nice man," she whispered. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

"Be brave, Hoshi."

And somewhere very far away, Dareka Namikaze awoke, sweating and breathing hard, convinced it wasn't just a dream.

* * *

**Next chapter is "Far Away". And that's not a joke. It may be far away in terms of publishing date, but you can be sure it'll be interesting. A little more about Hoshi, and Jiraiya too; we'll find out why he hasn't visited. And Sin will show up in a place he really shouldn't be...  
**

**Like it? Hate it? Say it! Review, goddamnit! **


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